


Nodus Tollens

by Umeko_Zoul



Category: WKM - Fandom, Who Killed Markiplier, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Death, Markiplier - Freeform, Russian Roulette, WKM, Who Killed Markiplier?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 13:45:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13660230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umeko_Zoul/pseuds/Umeko_Zoul
Summary: So... How DID Mark's murder go down?





	Nodus Tollens

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiii!!! I hope this is okay!! It was a little rushed... 
> 
> Be sure to leave feedback!

 

“I’ve always enjoyed parties. When everyone’s drunk, you can get a glimpse at a few people’s true nature. At least, for most people. Some have more control than others. I know how you can hold your drinks.”

“Don’t flatter me, Mark. I am not who I used to be. You see, to become old and wise, you have to first be young and stupid. Unfortunately for me, the wisdom with age came with a suddenly low alcohol tolerance.” 

“Oh sure, Colonel. That’s a load of nonsense.”

“If only it were nonsense… And besides, you have had a lot of nothing this whole time! Are you trying to butter me up to spill some gossip, because if you are-”

“Fine… I will have a little.” Mark sets the bottle down and retrieves the glass from the Colonel. It’s then gently placed next to his own glass of wine- untouched. Pulling on his robe, he gives the swaying friend a glance, then takes a sharp breath. “Things sure have changed, haven’t they?”

“Now what do you mean by that, Mark?” Colonel sits against the wall, head tilted at an uncomfortable position. His eyes were glossed, but somehow there was just enough coherence left for him to pay attention, listening as he tampered with the glasses on the counter of the bar.

“I mean,” Mark continues, brushing a hand through his hair and looking towards the Colonel. “That despite our rocky past, we’ve all been able to come together and get along this whole night. I find it… I find it remarkable that our brotherhood is just as strong, you know? The way we all have been acting here... It’s like we woke it up from a deep sleep. A nightmare.”

“Well… It’s said that time strengthens a friendship but weakens love.” Colonel offers a goofy smile and they lock eyes a moment, and all words cease. The silence that envelops the room, so much so that both halt breathing; it’s the loudest thing in the place. 

Mark’s face is inexpressive for the most part, with the rather disgusted look only in his eyes, giving a hint as to what was going on in his head. Colonel doesn’t register its specifics nor does he tries to apologize  due to his drunkenness. His smile is gone, though, as he seems to at least understand the negative effect that comment had on Mark. He doesn’t take it as disgust, however- mere anger is all. A minor disgruntlement. Nothing a sudden giggle will cure. 

“Oh, Mark, lighten up! It is a fun night, do not spoil it. Call me a fool, but your attitude makes me think you haven't changed.” 

“Do not be fooled by you own intoxicated assumptions, Colonel.” He snaps back, but allows the anger in his voice to boil down into a low, suddenly calm tone. With that, he straightens up, taking a deep, shuddering breath and brushes back a fallen hair. Reaching behind the counter, Mark retrieves a bottle of wine and, with not the slightest amount of restraint, pulls off the cork and peeks inside. “Only half full… Someone’s been having a sip at my wine because I have never opened this one.”

“I haven’t touched it.” Colonel says with a raised eyebrow. “But I’ll gladly take it from you if you were going to put it back.” 

“I was actually just looking at it.” Admits the actor. “I noticed it didn’t look as filled as the rest of the bottles. But if you insist…” He holds out the bottle, shrugging. “Help yourself. I’ll have a bit from my glass. I prefer that one’s tart taste over this brand.”

“Indeed I will.” Snatching the bottle, Colonel chugs down a good bit of what was left, and wipes the corner of his mouth with his thumb. In a gruff voice, he asks: “Have you seen Damien and y/n?”

“Well of course. Y/N sure has grown, haven’t they? It’s almost like yesterday they were a mischievous, lying, thieving little ball of good-for-nothing pride and childishness.”

“Now, Mark, I would have been less shady with that description, but that’s okay.”

“Heh… As I was saying, y/n is much different now. Much more polite and held together. Damien seems to enjoy it very much.” Colonel nods and hums, allowing Mark to continue. “I mean, sure he seemed to be enjoying himself the whole time he was there-”

“He’s easily entertained.”

“-yes. But he had such a twinkle in his eyes when he saw y/n arrive. The smile was genuine, and he was quite glued to their hip. I remember having that kind of look before…”

“... Mark, are you saying that Damien-”

“Now don’t go putting words into my mouth. You take what I said as your own interpretation. Besides…” Mark takes a look at the bottle with a smirk. “Perhaps he’s just looking for a one night stand and isn’t actually infatuated.” 

“Hey-” A hiccup, and Colonel shoots a glare sharp as daggers to Mark. “Do not be an asshole, Mark. Damien is not like that.”

“Did you not see him taking y/n upstairs?”

“They were drunk and were just struck in the face by that bloody detective!”

“And you weren’t even slightly suspicious by the suddenness Damien had to rush to their aid??”

“He was helping them!”

“He hasn’t come back downstair has he?!”

“Enough with that preposterous idea!” Taking a stumbling step towards Mark, Colonel snarls (and drools a little) through clenched teeth. “I know you do not like him much but do not try and think that will slide with me! He is not sleazy, and I know for a _ FACT  _ he would not do something so  _ disgusting. _ Y/N trusts him and so do I.” His head cocks to the side a little, tone suspicious. “I thought you said you trusted us again. Leaving the past behind or some gibberish.”

“I never said I trusted a single one of you. You haven’t earned it. Even tonight...” Mark leans away from the Colonel, unable to step back due to a chair being behind him. Holding up a hand to keep Colonel from getting too close, the man begins to look around. “What time would you say it is?”

“About 1:25, master.” A voice chimes in. Mark looks in the voice’s direction, but Colonel simply steps away. The butler, standing at the stairs and leaning over just enough to see them, doesn’t seem to notice the aggression from the Colonel, and gives Mark a wave. “I didn’t mean to intrude your conversation, but I was told to inform you that the guests are now asleep in their assigned rooms.”

“Who told you to tell me?”

“Damien, master.”

“Ah, yes… If you can tell me, was he with anyone, and where was he when he told you this?”

“In the bathroom with y/n.” Mark opens his mouth, but is already halted as the butler continues. “He was helping y/n clean up. Their nose was bleeding and they threw up all over themselves, so he had helped them change and sent them to bed.” 

Colonel snorts, smirking before Mark speaks up. “Thank you.” He forced a quick smile. “I will be up there in a moment. Why don’t you and the chef run to grab items for breakfast? I believe we ran out of food when the colonel and detective dumped everything in the refrigerator-”

“We’ve already done so.”

“I see…” Mark steps over and  taps his fingers against the counter, the Colonel suddenly slumping into the chair he was blocking. The bottle in his hand is empty now, tapping against the brown tiled floor with an annoying rhythm. “Well, send yourselves to bed, then. I need you both awake for the surprise in the morning.”

“You mean the breakfast.” Mark hums, but doesn’t offer a direct answer. The butler takes it as a yes, however, and dismisses himself from the room. Silence followed the sound of the door closing, and for a moment, Mark assumed without turning around that Colonel had passed out behind him, and began muttering to himself. Then the Colonel speaks up, groaning and asking questions in a sorrowful tone. Mark looks back at him, seeing that Colonel isn’t even looking at him, and turns back towards the wine again, staring at the floor behind the counter. 

“Why don’t you think I’m trustworthy?” 

“You’re dishonest, Colonel.”

“This isn’t about-”

“You know for a fact that is what it’s about.”

“Mark…”

“I am not going to give my trust to someone who has never given me even a shred of honesty, Colonel!” His grip on the counter’s ledge tightens, and he shakes his head. “You and Celine have done nothing to help me in our history, and I have been abandoned and betrayed enough. By my company, by you, by Celine and Damien and y/n and-”

“Stop it, Mark.” Colonel sits up in the chair, head lolling to the side towards the other. “You’re becoming hysterical. And you’ve only had a sip of wine.”

“I never had a taste of alcohol this entire damn night!” The actor sighs, and the room goes silent.

...

...

...

“I don't know how to feel anymore.” Mark’s breath shakes, hiding his face in his hands and holding back a smile. “I used to entertain thousands of people, I used to have a great life… and I lost it all… And I don't think I can trust anyone anymore.”

Colonel, now only slightly sober, straightened up his posture. “You can trust me, Mark… I’m not who I used to be.” There’s no reply. He tries again. “Mark-”

“Prove it to me, Colonel.”

“What?”

“I want you to prove it to me.” Mark points to Colonel’s gun, an unreadable expression on his face. “Hand me your gun.” Without much protest, Colonel gives Mark the revolver, a little concerned for what was planned. “Let’s play some Russian Roulette.”

“Mark, I’m not sure that’s a trust exercise…”

“I won’t accept any other way. You want to prove yourself trustworthy? Put your life on the line.”

“That gun is fully loaded-”

“No it’s not. You fired four shots already into the garden while Damien was trying to keep you from climbing out of the window. You have two bullets left.”

Colonel shifts, obviously uneasy. Eyes lowered to the floor, he gulps back a lump in his throat before sparing a glance at Mark, who’s staring directly at him. The aura of the actor has changed again. It’s become much more dark, more aggressive. The room now seems significantly smaller, and Colonel responds to it by standing up. With a face laced with uncertainty, Colonel approaches Mark, watching him fiddle with the gun in his hand. With that, Colonel gives a reluctant nod.

“If that’s what you want…” 

“I trust you won’t shoot me, Colonel. Shall we go someplace else? This rooms a little stuffy. I’ll lose my focus.” 

Colonel opens his mouth to object, and Mark offers a smile. Something stops him, but he doesn't know what. Mark offers one more glass of wine- the one he’d poured for himself. Unnerved by the smile the actor had, Colonel feels almost forced to drinking, finding it tasting… off. Stronger, almost. A faint ringing in his ears acts as a distraction, and Colonel holds his tongue, and simply follows Mark upstairs. There’s a creak on the wooden floor as the two walk near the fireplace. There’s no fire; only faded embers that illuminate the room and create an odd glow against a night statue that’s sat next to one of the chairs. Colonel, still intoxicated, stumbled to a chair, only to be stopped from sitting on it. 

“You don’t look too good, Colonel.” Mark coos, holding the revolver to his chest and spinning the cylinder a few times. He seems fond of the gun, as if it was his own possession. “We should make this game quick, shouldn’t we? We don’t need you passing out on me before this is over.”

Nodding, Colonel looks with half lidded yet nervous eyes. Mark smirks, holding the gun to his forehead. “Four empty chambers, two non. Not that hard, right?” He pauses, staring Colonel in the eyes with the barrel of the gun at the poor man’s forehead. There’s on a moment of hesitation, and he pulls the trigger.

It clicks, but nothing happens. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, Colonel lowers his head and sways. It’s his turn now. Shaking hands take the gun, his eyes glossy and lips twitching. 

“Go ahead, Colonel.” Mark taunts, a reflection of something sinister in his eyes reaches to the other man, and Colonel shivers in fear, trying to keep his eyes open enough to aim correctly. “I trust you won’t  _ actually _ kill me.”

With less than steady aim, Colonel tries to lift his arms to aim at Mark’s head, but can’t seem to keep it up. After taking step to fix his footing, he loses his focus. The pistol drops from his grasp, and while Colonel grabs for it, Mark steps forward and-

_ Bang.  _

A shot goes off, echoing throughout the room. 

Both men are on the ground now, but only one gets up.

Sat against a chair, Colonel tries to catch his breath, watching as Mark lie on his stomach, eyes wide, and a dark stain spreading across his lower back. Colonel lets out a few yells to try and get someone’s attention, but there’s no response. He notices the gun lying on his feet, and takes it, opening the cylinder and whimpering. Mark was wrong- There were four filled chambers, and now there were two empty ones. Stuffing the gun into his carrier, Colonel struggles to stand up, but thankfully does so. In a state of sluggish panic, he flees to his room. Out the door, up the stairs, he stumbles and falls, biting his tongue and letting out a choked, defeated sob. Upon finally making it too his room, Colonel wipes his mouth one final time, unable to care about the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, and flops onto the bed. 

Colonel hugs a pillow and buries his face in it, thankful his room has darker sheets and pillowcases. Or… Did it? Wasn’t it white before? No matter; he was at least sure it was his room. A few minutes pass, and he’s fading in and out, switching from reality to static. Questions pop in and out of his head, but he has no energy to answer them. Instead, he falls asleep… Waking up with a pounding headache and wondering what the hell happened last night.


End file.
